


Weed Cherry

by Memori_wanderis



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: A little, Dex has things to work out, First-Time Smoker, Friendship, Gen, Marijuana, Mentions of erections, No Sex, One Shot, Recreational Drug Use, Sexuality Crisis, bros, smoking mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memori_wanderis/pseuds/Memori_wanderis
Summary: Dex approaches Shitty to satisfy his curiosity about weed.  Shitty obliges with relish.





	Weed Cherry

He closed his eyes as he drew in a deep breath. When he opened them, the Haus was still there.

Well, Will thought. It would have been a great excuse. I mean, I went over to visit for reasons and I looked away for a moment and it was just gone! Honest!

The crack in the sidewalk at the very edge of the walk leading up to the house crunched under his shoes. It's Friday. There's no game. Maybe they all went...like, away for the weekend. Or, maybe everyone's inside? Looking up, he noticed there were no lights in either Bitty's or Jack's rooms shining through their windows, which faced the street. The sole window leading to the second floor hallway was on, but that was always on.

There, Will thought. See? No one home. You can go. As he turned around, that nagging (i.e. truthful) voice in his head added in a tart tone. The first floor lights are on. Nice try, Poindexter.

This was a foolish idea.

Is that why you practically ran here?

Still, it's...stupid. It was just an idea anyway. It's not important.

Like you have anything better to do?

A sigh escaped Will's lips. That nagging voice was right. His homework was done, their next game was next weekend, and nothing in the retro-gaming library on his desktop (all those ROMs fell off the back of an Internet Truck, honest!) was really calling to him. He had a thought about what else could be done on a Friday night, and something clicked for just a moment. Hey...that's a new one. And he knew there was a possibility here. After all, he was open about it.

As he turned back around, Will looked up at the Haus. Is this how Mario felt before every -4 level? Or Simon in the first Castlevania?

Of course, if Simon knew how controller-cracking fucking hard it was going to be in there, he'd have turned right around. Smirking at the thought, Will did the same. Those goddamn Medusa-heads alone-

"Don't believe the hype," a Boston-accented voice called from above and behind him. "No matter what you heard, our place is so much fucking better than the LAX bro's house."

Oh, that's right, the Lacrosse team's house was across the street. Objectively, Will knew that, but it never crossed his mind. Will let out a quiet chuckle, albeit strained. The outside voice was right; the LAX bros didn't have - couldn't possibly have - a more interesting and varied group of characters than the ones in the house behind him. Speaking of which...

"I know," Will said out loud as he turned to face the Haus of his...friends? His teammates? Maybe both? 

Leaning out of the second-story hallway window, his elbows on the window sill, was just the man William Poindexter wanted to see. The fact that he was also the one Will was hoping wasn't around so he could rationalize this idea away didn't help matters. Neither, of course, did the dichotomy of those two wants. His lips pursed, and his right leg shook a little. An old habit, of when he was really nervous about something.

A grin sprouted under Shitty Knight's bodacious moustache. 

"Dex, brah," Shitty said. "What's happening?"

Dex, Will thought. To them, I'm Dex.

So...maybe Dex would do something William wouldn't?

Just a thought.

"Nahmuch," Will said in a single breath. "Nothing going on on my end of campus, and I just...kinda went out walking?" What William wouldn't. "Can I come in?"

"Fuck yes you can come in," Shitty replied, with a raised eyebrow to punctuate it. "I'll be right down."

Going inside, Will stopped as Shitty bounded down the stairs. The Senior was dressed in cutoff jean-shorts and nothing else. At least he wasn't fully naked, like word got around to the team. That...Will wasn't sure he could handle that right now. Not right now.

But what about Dex?

Table that for later.

"Dex," Shitty said, not stopping as he got to the first floor, coming forward and pulling Dex into a bone-cracking hug. "Dex, you never have to ask. Or even fucking knock. You're a part of this frigging team. You belong here." 

Dex stiffened at the hug, out of reflex. He still wasn't used to Shitty's casual contact. Still, as Shitty let go, Dex found himself missing it, a little. The contact had reminded him him he was there; that he existed.

"Personal rooms are off limits without an invitation," Shitty amended. "But in all other ways this is your Haus too, got it?" Before Dex could stutter out an affirmative, Shitty had an arm around his shoulders and was steering him towards the kitchen. "There's no pie right now, Bitty said something about tomorrow maybe. You want a beer?" Shitty let him go again as he went to the fridge to scrounge.

"Nah," Dex answered. "Not right now. Water if you've got it." They're an athletic team; of course there'll be water. Stop being so dense, Will. "I...h-hope I wasn't interrupting you? From, well, anything?" Put out the feelers, first. How to broach the subject?

"Not even." Shitty tossed him a bottled water, and condensation splattered on his hand as Dex caught it. Nice and cold. "Just a chill night."

Chill. Will flinched despite himself. Nursey always said "chill." And Derek was one of the last things he needed to think about right now. Remember the mission!

"Chill," Dex said, nodding again. "Yeah. Sounds...nice?"

Another dripping water was in Shitty's hand as he closed the fridge. Silence sat between them for a few seconds, and Shitty seemed to transform, in a way. His smile was quieter. His lack of 'Fuck Yeah!' exuberance seemed to cause him to shrink, a little. 

"Dex," he said. He grabbed a chair at the table in the kitchen and pulled it out to sit down. "Cop a squat," he asked.

Dex did as he was asked, taking a long pull from the water bottle, his forearms rested on the table.

Shitty leaned forward on his own arms. Dex, poor guy, had never seen Shitty Knight in Lawyer Mode.

"So," Shitty began. "And tell the truth, okay? What's said here, Dex, Stays Here." Dex could hear the capitalization on those last words. Oh God oh God oh God...

"It's Friday," Shitty said.

"Yes."

"And you have nothing going on?"

"Nope."

"Homework?"

"Already done," Dex said, starting to feel color rise in his cheeks.

"Nothing else? No hot date?"

"Pfft," Dex scoffed. "No, no date."

"So you came here," Shitty continued. 

"Yes,"

"But I saw you," Shitty said, a little concern creeping into his tone. "You almost left."

Dex just nodded.

"Why?"

"Dunno. Wasn't sure a-anyone was here." Maybe, Dex thought, that beer would have been better.

"But I'm here."

"Yeah," Dex said. 

"Were you...looking for someone specific? Someone else?"

At the second question, Dex shook his head. Shitty nodded, having picked up on it.

"So you...wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, I..." Dex cut himself off, the words getting jammed in his throat. His right hand lifted to rub the back of his neck.

"Is..." Shitty triled off, tilting his head to one side. "Is this a romantic thing?"

All the color in Dex's cheeks drained out. "No!" he said, nearly shouted. Realizing how...not cool that sounded, Dex shook his head. Oh God, why is the stuff he didn't want to think about always coming up in this place? "No, it's not that," he added, softer. "I see the way you look at Lardo."

"You and everyone else," Shitty said with a wry smile. 

"Does Lardo?"

"Neither of us has said anything," Shitty admitted. "And that was as expert of a derailing of a line of questioning as I've ever seen, Dex. Brah, you ever consider Pre-Law?"

Dex raised a hand, palm outward, indicating a concession of the point. "Line of questioning," he muttered.

"Yeah, that sounds a little harsh," Shitty admitted, and at least looked contrite. "I'm sorry. I want you to be comfortable, you know?"

"I do," Dex said. "Sounds like you care."

"Of course I fucking do," Shitty said. "You're my friend." So...not a teammate. 

"But," Shitty added. "Moving on, you wanted to see me?"

"Y-yeah," Dex said. "Wasn't sure if you'd be around, but."

"Buuuuut?"

"Well, you're here."

"That I am," Shitty said. "You want to talk to me about something?"

Dex answered with another nod, his throat getting another word-traffic jam.

"And whatever you want to talk about here, it stays here, Dex. I fucking promise you that. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So."

"So," Dex repeated. 

"What's up?"

"I've never tried pot!" Dex said, his voice going up an octave or two as for the first time in the conversation, he locked eyes with Shitty. Dex's hand reached under the table to stop his right leg from vibrating.

"Oh." Shitty remained expressionless, noting all of the things Dex was saying not with words, but his body. The stiff shoulders, which Shitty felt from the hug earlier. Kid's tight as a guitar string. The shaking leg, the guilty look. "I see. Well," he said, standing up and rummaging through the lower kitchen cabinets. He pulled out...a pot. "We got a nice sauce pot right here," he said. Sauce pan with a handle. Ooo, and here's the cast iron skillet, but that's only for the really hardcore-"

"That wasn't what I meant," Dex said, his voice flattening out. Chirping? Fuck, this was a bad idea. They're going to make fun of him. Look at Dex, thinking he's all cool and shit. He imagines the laughter, at the edge of his consciousness, as his chair started to slide backwards. Bad idea. 

"Then say it," Shitty said with a chuckle as he turned around. "It's not nineteen-eighty-seven; no one calls it that."

"Uh..."

"Say it," Shitty said. "Out loud."

"Vampire," Dex blurted. He flinched with rising horror. "Don't judge me!" he shouted. He was going to send a potently venemous e-mail to his sister later; she watched those movies in the living room so many goddamn times...

Shitty's chest hitched as he tried to hold in the laughter. "Come on, Dex..."

"Fine," Dex said. "I've never tried marijuana. Pot, weed, grass, the ganja, the mary jane, the kush, the wacky tobacky, the reefer..." The tension dropped out a little, with Dex's thoughts being out in the open. "Did I miss any?" he asked in a small voice.

"Tons," Shitty said as he stood up. "But that's a lot more than I thought. Doing research?"

"Since I was fourteen," Dex said, the blip or surprise at the end coming from himself. Those nights hitting websites, getting around the parental filters, scrubbing the browser history at the deepest levels...

Shitty sat back down. "And you never smoked?"

"Just cigarettes. a couple of times," Dex admitted. It all Stays Here, Shitty said. "I know they're bad, and I didn't like it, so I stopped, but it was the closest I could get to...well. And I didn't know anyone, and I was working with my family all the time so I wasn't the most social or partier." He could handle his alcohol, though; older siblings and cousins of Will's made sure of that. The words, now no longer blocked, seemed to want to rush to freedom.

"So you want to try it," Shitty said, back to his confidant-smiling mode.

"I do," Dex said, feeling the blood throb behind his eyes as the words came out. "I wanted to for a while, and I didn't know anyone, but I was scared to approach you, even at the Kegster. I know everyone thinks I'm some soul-less tight-ass grumpy old man wannabe all because of that fucking republican bumper sticker on my laptop my roommate put on there as a fucking joke the first week but no one ever asked and everyone just went on just assuming shit about me and I had nothing to do tonight and there's no game tomorrow and you make it no secret and it was this thought and it became an urge and I kept making myself not turn around coming here and you called and I almost ran for it because I'm just a wannabe and-"

"Dex," Shitty said, someone in the beginning of Dex's speech. He repeated the Freshman's name again a few times as the speech became a run-on floodgate of a sentence. "Dex!" Shitty yelled, grabbing the redhead's hand. He stood again as Dex quieted down, still shivering a little. "Dex, it's okay, brah. Breathe," he said, and pulled Dex into a lighter hug than before. "It's all right, Dex. Breathe with me. In...out...in...good man," he whispered.

"Shit, Dex," Shitty added. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry everyone assumed shit about you without asking. I'm sorry for chirping you, man. I was just trying to get you to laugh, because...you looked so tight. Like a rubber band at the breaking point." Dex choked back something, almost like a sob, and Shitty tightened his arms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that when you were nervous."

"I'm serious," Dex said. "Just...please take me seriously." He felt Shitty man-thumping his back with his palm.

"I do, Dex," Shitty answered. "I do, it's okay. It's okay. His voice lowered a bit as he felt Dex calm down. No, Knight, he thought. Don't use the word Unclench...

Dex himself seemed to shrink when Shitty let him go again. He did feel less tense. "I...I've got some money. I can lea-"

"Oh fuck no, Dex," Shitty said as his smile widened. "If you do this again down the road I might ask for you to chip in." He pauses. "I rarely do that; my uptight-as-fuck backward-thinking family's old money," he said, with not a small amount of disgust. "But I will not take your money. Nor," he said. "Are you going anywhere. Before you came here I was about to sit out on the reading room-" The Haus' name for the roof by the second story windows, "-and smoke a big fat joint." The left side of his mouth quirked. "How's that sound?"

More blood pounded behind Dex's eyes, as a jolt of dizziness flashed through him, and left just as quickly. "Sounds good," he said. "If I could join you, that it." He paused. "If I could smoke with you. Not just watch you do it."

"Aww, you can use your words," Shitty said with another chuckle. "I would be honored, Dex." He grabbed a plastic holder of half a dozen waters from the fridge in one hand, and Dex's wrist in the other. "'Sides, it's been fucking ages since I took anyone's weed cherry."

"Weed cherry?"

"Weed virginity," Shitty said, and Dex felt his face start to flush. "Someone getting smoked out for the first time."

"Didn't know that was a thing," Dex said, almost tripping up the stairs as Shitty lead him by the hand.

"Oh, it is. It's a fucking magnificent right of passage, it is," Shitty said, and stopped when Dex's feet hit the second floor. "Okay, inside or outside?" 

Dex looked to the window, and his top teeth worried his bottom lip. "Uh...inside? I'm...I mean maybe they won't care if they see me, but-"

"Say no more," Shitty said with a smile, pulling Dex to his room. "It's cool," He steers himself and Dex to some beanbag chairs on the floor, only getting up to open his window, put on a fan to blow outward, and move towels and bags to cover up the bottoms of the doors to both the hall and his shared bathroom with Jack. The lights were then turned off, and a few flicks put on the string of multicolored Christmas lights along the borders of the ceiling and doors, and the glow-in-the-dark planet and galaxy stickers on his ceiling. "This is better for first timers. You control the environment inside, so it's like your own stoner bubble."

For the first time that night, Dex let out a laugh. "I'll trust the pro, I guess."

"Are you nervous?"

"Yeah," Dex admitted. "I thought...well, there's be some reason you'd say no. Like I'm trying too hard, or I wasn't mature enough to handle it...I dunno."

"Don't be so down on yourself," Shitty said, squeezing Derek's shoulder. "It's okay to be nervous, because the powers that be still have this illegial and have indoctrinated generations with misinformation about how terrible it is..." The older man shakes his head. "Never mind. It's okay to be nervous. But I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you, okay?" Another grin flashed. "Repeat after me. I'm Dex."

"I'm Dex," he said. Dex. Not Will. Maybe Dex wouldn't be so nervous.

"I'm going to smoke weed with my friend Shitty."

"I'm going to smoke weed with my friend Shitty," Dex repeated. 

"And I'm not going to call it 'Pot' again because this isn't a fucking John Hughes film."

"Shitty..."

"Fine, fine." Shitty said, and pulled a textbook out of the shelf underneath his top-bunk bed, where they were situated with water and beanbags. "But I, Dex, am going to relax and have a good time."

"I, Dex, and going to relax and have a good time."

"Good, now," Shitty said, opening the book and pulling something from a hollowed out hole cut into it. "Say hello to Mister Trey Grams."

"Holy shit," Dex said despite himself, looking at the size of the fat joint in Shitty's hand. "Yeah, that's a joint." About as long and thick as one of Dex's fingers. His eyes widened, and his heart rate picked up again.

"I was going to smoke this tonight. Three grams of my best shit," Shitty said. "By myself, it's good. With a friend, this'll be a fucking celebration." His chin lowered. "Thanks for trusting me, Dex. I'm kinda flattered."

"Thank you," Dex answered," for trusting me.

"And in the next few days everyone is going to know that that sticker on your computer was a fucking prank by your ass-clenching roommate, okay? We'll fix this shit, you got it?"

"Got it," Dex said, as Shitty gave him another water, telling him he'd need it.

Shitty didn't say anything as he held the joint in one hand, passing the lighter over the end. A few more passes until the paper started to burn, and Shitty brought the mammoth joint to his lips and started to pull. A few puffs, and Shitty was surrounded by cloud fuming from the sides of his mouth.

The smell tickled Dex's nostrils. It smelled like some of the stairwells in school, or a faint whiff outside at the few parties he had time to attend back then. But he could never pinpoint, then, who was smoking, and his nerves failed him time and time again. 

Will's nerved failed. Dex wasn't going anywhere right now.

The cherry flared orange as Shitty took a deep hit, passing the joint to Dex. Smoke came out in bursts as Shitty spoke. "Just take it in slowly, man. There's no rush, and the smoke's thicker than cigarettes."

Wordlessly, Dex took the offered joint. He hefted it in his hand, looking at it. He was really doing this. He always wondered...and that moment. It's here. Holy shit. Oh God.

Dex took a few breaths to calm his nerves before putting the doobie to his lips. Closing his eyes, he pulled in some of the smoke, feeling it go down. The taste was odd, and heavy, to his inexperienced lungs. He held his breath for a pair of seconds before letting it out. He hadn't smoked in at least two years, and his lungs hitched.

"So," Shitty asked, and Dex nodded without saying anything. "Take another hit and pass it back. Stoner etiquette and all."

"Okay," Dex whispered, as if speaking any louder would break this spell, this...bubble of time he was in. His heart was jumping against his ribcage as he brought the joint back for another hit. He took the smoke in deeper this time, and when he exhaled while passing the joint, the smoke caught and triggered a coughing fit. The smoke he inhaled came out in blasts from his nose and mouth as Shitty pounded his back with one hand while rescuing the joint with the other. 

"Easy, Dex, easy..." he said. "It's all right. Coughing's good."

"Says you."

"You never heard the saying If you don't cough you don't get off?"

"That's a thing?"

"Scout's honor," Shitty said.

"You were a Scout?"

"Cub Scout," Shitty replied. "But I got kicked out for eating Brownies."

"Oh, dude," Dex said with a wince as Shitty started laughing. "Dude..."

"Just messing with you, man," Shitty said, taking a big hit.

"So, three grams? Is that a lot?"

"Fuck yeah," Shitty said, exhaling. "If you, a first timer, smoked this by yourself, you'd be gnawing on my doorknob and saying it tastes like caramel."

"That," Dex said, as Shitty passed the joint back. "Is oddly specific."

"Hell of a story," Shitty countered.

Dex hit the joint again, taking in more smoke but being careful. It didn't make him cough this time. "So...this is a big fucking joint." He smiled it. "Hi, Trey Grams. I'm Dex. It's wonderful meeting you."

"Praise Trey," Shitty said, solemn.

"Praise Trey," Dex said, in the same tome.

Dex took a gulp of water before taking his second hit of this pass. He leaned his head back against the beanbag chair, pursing his lips and letting the smoke out in a slow line before giving the joint back. His eyes closed, and he felt a sense of quiet lay over him like a blanket. Just him and Shitty in this little bubble. It was...nice.

The joint made it was between them a few more times in relative silence.

"So," Shitty said. stifling a thick cough of his own. "How are you, Dex?"

Dex thought about it as he sipped at his second bottle of water. He could feel the buzz in his head, which wasn't bad at all. His arms and legs felt...fuzzy, and the beanbag felt like was pulling him in, warm and like a giant hug.

"I'm...I feel good," Dex said in a whisper. "It feels reeeeeallly good," he added, letting the word draw itself out slowly.

"Good for you, man," Shitty said, beaming at him. "Congrats on being a stoner."

"I..." He had wanted to try it, Dex knew that much. But would he do it again?

"I am having a good time," he finally said. "I'm pretty sure I'm high."

"You are," Shitty replied. "I can tell. You, my friend, are well and truly baked."

"And you?"

"Oh hell yes," Shitty said, as he put the stub of the joint out in an ashtray Dex didn't remember appearing. It was pretty much going, between the two of them.

Dex closed his eyes, feeling the floor underneath him shift like he was in one of those water park wave pools. "Yeah. Good. Yeah," he said, then frowned as certain other things came up. He shifted in his seat, moving his jeans to one side, and tried to be surreptitious. 

"Ahhhh," Shitty said, with a laugh. "Stoner boner?"

Dex paused, feeling the heat burn his cheeks. "Wait, do stoners have a thing for everything?"

"Yeah," Shitty said. "It's a common thing. Hey, I can go up to my bed if you wanna stay here and take care of it. The rush when you're stoned-"

"No," Dex said, feeling the blush reach the tops of his ears. Oh, oh God no. "No, I'll manage."

"Offer's open."

"No, thank you," Dex answered with a hazy finality. 

Shitty smiled, looking as dazed as Dex felt. "Wanna watch a movie or play a game or something?"

"Suuuure," Dex said, tilting a now empty water bottle in his hand. Another urge hit him. "Are the munchies an actual thing or if it something the...powers that be made up or some shit?"

"Nah, they're real," he said. "Shit, I wish Bitty had left a pie out. I feel like we both could fucking destroy one right now."

"Hell yeah," Dex said, nodding, and kept nodding. He had to consciously stop nodding. "Huh. Bitty."

Shitty's head tilted to the side again. "What about Bitty?"

"Huh? I dunno."

"You sure? Is there something? Like...you into him?"

"Oh," Dex said. "Oh, no, no no..."

"Why not?" Shitty said. "He bakes like a fucking champ, and he pretty much shits sunshine and happiness and puppies."

Dex, unable to hold it in, clutched his stomach as a weed-induced laughing fit took him over. It felt like a few minutes before he could calm down, but every time he got close the mental image of Eric Bittle crapping puppies came back and it was back to square one. Still, he felt safe. Safe to laugh, and think, and say whatever he felt.

"Nah," Dex said. "I'm not into him that way. I'm...kinda jealous of him."

Shitty's intrest was well and truly piqued. So there was more to this than just smoking weed. "Jealous?"

Dex propped himself up on his elbows, resisting the ineffable pull of the comfiest beanbag chair in the known world and beyond. "Yeah," Dex said. "I mean, Bitty is...Bitty. He is who he is and he doesn't care about what people think and he's so unashamedly Bitty and he knows exactly who he is and has himself all figured out and oh God I wish..."

Shitty scooted over to put an arm over Dex's shoulder. "Okay. Some of what you said is right, Dex. And some of it is so wrong no can literally even." He chuckled at his own joke, but became a little more serious. "Bitty's a great guy, but be careful of putting him on a pedestal, okay? You're no worse or better than he is. No one is. You, me, Jack..."

"Okay," Dex said. It was sound advice, and he didn't realize what he was doing until it was just pointed out to him. Dex wondered if he would remember the lesson when he got sober. If was ever sober again because holy shit maybe all those anti-drug campaigns undersold what weed felt like because holy shit I feel amazing.

"Shitty," he said. "I was...am, I dunno, jealous. I don't think I'm straight, but...I dunno. I just don't know, you know? I don't feel like I'm not the right gender; that much I get, but there's so many things along the spectrum like you said and I don't know who...where I am on it. Or who I am on it."

"Well, you're Dex," Shitty said, and Dex's head snapped up. 

"Who is that?"

"You have time. You don't have to know right now. Take the time, brah, to figure it out."

"Yeah, yeah that makes sense." Dex looked down at his stoner boner, and chuckled. "Maybe I'm weed-sexual."

"If that's the case I will totally be your fucking pimp."

Again, another laughing fit, this time shared with Shitty. "Yes," Dex said betwen guffaws. "Oh my God yes."

Once he calmed down, again (with a few delays due to the mental image of Shitty in a fur coat platform shoes and a pimp cane), Dex sank down. "Now you made me think of pie. Or...like warm fresh chocolate chip cookies?" Something about the cookies always made him feel safe. Secure. And he felt that way now, being high with Shitty. So, double the secure.

"Dude, dude," Shitty said, getting up slowly and pulling Dex up with him. "I know where the choclolate chips are. I know where they fucking are. I can't make cookies, but...fuck yeah chocolate chips."

Dex looked around. The christmas lights seemed to move on their own, and his head felt like a balloon turning on it's string, slowly, barely attached to the rest of his body. Woah. "Yeah. Is good."

The boys made their way down the stairs. This took a little longer than normal since Dex held on to the railing for dear life out of a sudden fear he was too high and would fall down the stairs and oh God what a horrible way to die and even worse ruin his good time.

In the kitchen, Shitty took a few minutes rifling through cabinets before trimphantly holding up a sealed bag of swmi-sweet morsels. "We have chips," he crowed. Dex looked on with rising anticpation as Shitty fiddled with the bag.

"And what," came a voice, Georgia-seasoned, from the doorway, "do you think you two are doing?" In the kitchen, Eric Bittle with folded arms and exasperated 'this is not the first time we have been in this situation' expression, loomed a lot larger than his five-foot-six-and-a-half-thank-you-the-half-is-important frame would have one believe. Like, here, Eric was huge to Dex's perception. Like their own kitchen kaiju. That thought put a smile on Dex's face as he turned to face Bitty in his domain.

"Shitty," Bitty said. "I have told you more than once those chocolate chips are only for baking."

"That's okay," Dex said before he could stop himself. "We're already baked. Does that count?" Again, he broke down into giggles before he could get an answer.

Bitty put his head into his hand. "Lord," he whispered. "Save me from stoners and semantics." He glanced up to shoot Shitty a Look (tm) which made Shitty put the bag down immediately. He turned to Dex with a softer smile. Bitty had sort of adopted the Frogs, this year, as a parent. "Hi Dex," he said. 

"I really fucking am," Dex answered. 

"How are you?"

"I'm not a weed virgin anymore!"

"I can see that," Bitty drawled, his shoulders moving in a way to indicate he was trying not to laugh. "Shitty popped your weed cherry?"

"You know about that?" Dex asked. "Shitty said it was a stoner thing."

"Oh, I know," Bitty said.

"Offer's still open," Shitty said, almost leering at the small blond guy in the doorway. 

"Nope," Bitty said, with a chuckle.

"You haven't?" Dex asked. "Oh my God, Bitty you're missing out."

"I'll live with the pain."

"But Shitty's an awesome weed pimp," Dex countered. The 'what?' expression on Bitty's face caused Shitty to dissolve into giggles, which triggered giggles on Dex's part.

"Unbelieveable," Bitty muttered. He moved across the kitchen to start escorting the stoned contingent out of his kitchen. "Look, give me a few and I'll make some chocolate-chip cookies. How's that sound?"

"That sounds fucking perfect, Bitty," Shitty said, as Dex nodded along.

"Yeah," Dex said. "We've been at this for hours. Totally hungry."

"Brah," Shitty said, turning Dex's head to the clock. "It's only been like forty-five minutes since we went upstairs."

Dex leaned towards the clock, as if accusing it of lying. "Fuck. Really?"

"How high are you two," Bitty asked.

"Yes," Dex and Shitty said simultaneously, before cracking up again.

"Oh my God, stop." Bitty finally got them out to the room. "You two hang out here, I'll be right with you." He turned and went back to the cabinets in the kitchen, getting materals.

"Shitty, Shitty," Dex asked and they went to the living room, ready to plop on the couch for some Mario Kart. "You think Chowder still has his weed cherry?"

"You two go near Chowder," Bitty called from the kitchen, without pausing in his cooking. "And I can and will go full-on Sweeney Todd on you both."

That killed that thought right there. "Brah," Shitty whispered, turning on the TV and game console. "I really think he'd do it."

Dex gulped. "I'm fucking sure he would."

"Oh, and Dex," Bitty called. "You're crashing here tonight. I'm not letting you go back out when you're this high."

"He's crashing in my room," Shitty called back.

"Thank you," Dex said. "But...I kinda don't want this to end. I feel...well, I feel."

"I hear you, brah," Shitty said. "So, let's play. We have cookies in our future."

Dex didn't do so well at Mario Kart; the colors on Rainbow Road keps grabbing his attention and causing him to lose track of the game. Cookies eventually arrived, and Dex apologized to the half-full bag of morsels that he ever thought of eating them before being baked into these fucking comforting perfect chocolate chip cookies.

Dex, as he snuggled into the beanbag chair as he hovered on a weed-influenced slumber, thanked Will for turning around earlier. 

-End-


End file.
